


The Last Night of Sadness

by keylimepie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Afterlife, Despair, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Post-Season/Series 12, Spoilers for Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 09:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11182332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keylimepie/pseuds/keylimepie
Summary: Dean cannot live without Castiel, and he makes a rash decision that will change everything.





	1. Chapter 1

Dean didn't know how long he'd been lying across Castiel's body. In fact, he didn't clearly remember how he'd gotten there. The flesh beneath him was cooling and stiffening; there was no heartbeat beneath his cheek. Blood soaked into his shirt where he'd fallen across the wound, as if he could somehow stop the leaking grace and blood by pressing his own body against it. 

“Cas... please...” he whispered again. His voice was hoarse; he must've been screaming. He wiped his sleeve across his face, not wanting to let his snot drip onto Cas's chest, even now. “Chuck, damn you, I'm warning you...” his voice hitched into another sob. “You better fix him now. I can't... can't.” He broke off and moved his hands across Castiel's body reverently. “Baby, please.” 

His hand brushed across something hard in Cas's inside jacket pocket. Dean reached his hand in guiltily, as if he should not be picking Cas's pocket. His hand closed around the handle and he drew out a knife. Just an ordinary Bowie knife, shiny and quite new looking. Perhaps Cas had gotten it recently because he was Boy Scouting around this cabin. Maybe he picked it up on some hunt. Or he could have found it here and thought it looked useful. Dean poked the tip into his palm, blood welling up in the spot. It was good and sharp. 

“That's as good a fuck-you sign as any, I suppose,” he shouted to the sky. “Well you know what, fuck you, too. I'm out.” With that, Dean plunged the blade into his own chest. With a groan he fell across Castiel's body once again, blood welling out around the wound and merging with the angel's. Dean exhaled Cas's name in a last breath and was still. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean Winchester stood on the shore of a mountain lake, beside his own body. He looked down sadly at the figures on the ground. “I was hoping for a little more oblivion,” he muttered. The grief was just as acute, and he wondered what the hell he'd been thinking. He should have known that there would be no escaping this. Billie wasn't around anymore to toss him into the emptiness. There was nothing to do but wait for some hunter to end his spirit. With a guilty start, he thought of Sam. He hoped the task wouldn't fall to him. 

“Hello Dean,” said a familiar gravelly voice behind him. Dean whirled around. 

“Cas!” he gasped. “You're here.” 

“Yes, it seems that my existence has been... transferred.” It was then that Dean noticed the scythe in his hand. 

“They made you a reaper?” Dean asked in confusion. 

“Yes. The Reaper, in fact,” Castiel said. “I've even retrieved the ring.” 

“So... you're here to take me?” Dean asked. “Because before I go...” 

“Dean, if I were to send you along to your end, there is no way I would be able to ever see you again.” Castiel drew a breath out of habit and stared into Dean's eyes intently. “And I cannot face that.” 

“No, me neither. Cas I... I love you, man. I mean, love you love you.” Dean reached his hand out and caressed Cas's cheek, and was pleasantly surprised that it felt the same as it had in life. Warm, solid, real. The next thing that he knew, Cas had seized him by the collar and was kissing him, and he forgot to think about being dead. God, those lips were so soft and warm. Dean made a little sound and sagged against him as Cas's tongue found its way into his mouth. 

One of the perks of being dead was not having to breathe. The kissing went on and on, their bodies slotted together, so obviously excited but without any particular urgency to do anything about it. Just the need to explore each other's mouths, after all these years of somehow never managing to do so. 

Dean at last pulled away, at arm's length, to look into those blue eyes. “What do we do from here, though? Can I just follow you around? Don't you have to... go reap people and stuff?” 

Castiel smiled. “My personal attendance is not always required. Not often, in fact. And yes, I would like it if you would stay with me. Besides the mere enjoyment of your presence, I can only keep you safe from the other reapers if you are by my side.” He slid an arm around Dean's waist possessively. “Understand that there will be considerable ire about our arrangement. We will have to be ever vigilant.” Cas's hand twitched on the handle of the scythe. 

“I'm not sure I know how to be anything else,” Dean replied glibly. He pulled away from Cas with some reluctance and looked around them. The sun was starting to peek up over the horizon. “Sammy... he ran in the house; I guess he never came out. Is he...?” 

“Sam is at peace,” Castiel said gently. “That's where I was just before I got the pull to be with you. Sam fought the Nephilim bravely, but... it was too much.” 

“You reaped him?” Dean gasped. 

“I sent him to his reward, Dean. He was ready to go. I was able to say goodbye to him and explain everything. And there were people waiting to greet him. Women... friends... he's where he wanted to be.” Castiel looked down at the ground, unable to meet Dean's eye. “I could send you to him, if you'd rather. Just say the word, Dean. I just...” Castiel gestured down at the dead bodies, the knife still protruding from Dean's chest, in exact parallel of the one he'd driven into Castiel's chest all those years ago. “I had no idea that you'd do such a foolish thing. If I'd known, I would have waited.” 

“I wish I'd told you before, that there was no way I could live without you,” Dean said sadly. “Well Sammy's in his heaven and I'll miss him like crazy. But I guess he'll have his memories of me there. And I need you, Cas.” Dean surged forward and caught the angel – no, the reaper's – chin in his hand and kissed him again, feverishly. “Baby, I'm your man,” Dean whispered against Cas's lips. 

“Am I in for an eternity of you quoting that Blue Oyster Cult song at me?” Castiel asked, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. 

“You'll get used to it,” Dean said impishly, wrapping his arms around Cas's waist. 


End file.
